A Beautiful Body A Beautiful Team
by theycallmeRubberDuck
Summary: James and Lily, beginning with their 6th year at Hogwarts and ending...wherever it ends. Romance, excitement, teenage drama...


A Beautiful Body…A Beautiful Team

Ch. 1 "If I said…"

"If I said you have a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?" Sixteen year old raven-haired James Potter questioned the only girl at Hogwarts who didn't swoon at the mere sound of his voice, Lily Evans.

"Ugh! Potter! That is an old and completely revolting line. But I'm in a giving mood, and I'll grace it with an answer anyways." Red-haired Lily responded.

"You – you will?" James stuttered in surprise. "Usually when I'm so obnoxious as to feed you one of these amazing lines, you slap me or yell at me or _Petrificus Totalus_ me. Now you'll actually talk to me? This is amazing. A breakthrough, Lily!"

"Yes, Potter, yes. Miraculous, I know. Now you have to be quiet, or I will walk away or do something else that I am apparently known for. You ready?" Lily sighed impatiently.

"I would do anything in order to have a conversation with you, Lily." James said, a grin lighting up the strong lines of his face.

"Alright then, Potter. Here goes: If you said I had a beautiful body, I would say that you are lying to me for one of two reasons. One, you love making people feel inferior to you. That's what makes you an arrogant arse. By telling me that I am beautiful, you'd really be teasing me for my just-wider-than-average hips, my big feet, my paper-white skin, and my obnoxiously clashing hair. Two, you don't really like me for me, but you are currently out of girls to shag for the week before dumping. I just so happen to be on your "Oh, well, I suppose she'll do" list, and if you say I'm beautiful, perhaps I'll run into your arms and under your sheets until you've decided that you're quite through with me." Lily paused in her rant to breathe and glare and James, who looked… almost sad and apologetic.

"How's that for an answer, Potter? Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Lily began to storm away, but was stopped by a small sound from behind her.

"Wait. Please?" James whispered, looking almost like a hurt child.

Lily sighed and turned back dramatically.

"Okay. What is it, Potter?"

James looked at his feet for a moment, trying to summon the courage to say what was on his mind, weighing heavily on his heart. He took a deep breath and began.

"I won't deny that some of what you said was – used to be – true. I used to be a player, willing to take almost any girl to my room. I was a bully, picking on first and second years…and anyone younger or smaller than me."

Lily snorted, rolling her eyes, and James looked at her with hurt in his own hazel eyes. "But haven't you noticed I've changed, Lily?"

James looked up, stared right into Lily's flashing, emerald eyes. "I've changed for you. I know you don't believe me, Lily, but I love you. I really do. And I hope you don't truly think that all of those degrading things you said about yourself are true, because they're some of my favorite things about you."

James stepped closer to Lily, who was too dumbfounded to protest as he slipped a hand around her waist, pulling her to him so that their noses were mere inches apart.

"I'm going to keep talking to you, Lily, and I'm going to tell you something important while you're being so nice to me, and listening quietly."

James winked at her, smiling a bright but sad smile.

"Your 'just-wider-than-average' hips," he murmured, running his hands along her sides slowly and cautiously, "are just perfect, in my opinion. They make you look strong, independent. You don't seem to care what the popular image is. And your skin _isn't_ paper-pale. It's the color of fresh snow as it falls on the banks of the Black Lake, or on the tips of the limbs of the Whomping Willow. Or, if you prefer spring metaphors, it's the color of the petals of a Lily-flower for which you were so aptly named. A strong, individualistic, gorgeous flower. And your hair? It makes you unique. It makes you… you. I can always find you in a room just by standing on tip-toe and looking at the heads of the people in the room. You stand out in a crowd – your hair, your face, your personality draws people to you automatically. As for your feet, well, I can't say I've ever paid much attention to them, sorry."

James chuckled and stared at her feet for a moment.

"They are quite lovely, though. I can't imagine anyone holding the size of your feet against you."

Lily sighed and he started back in hurriedly.

"Hold on, I'm not quite finished. Your eyes are perhaps – no, they are the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. I have them memorized. The size, the color, the shape. They are the perfect shape of an almond. The electric green is captivating, entrancing. They flash when you're angry, sparkle when you laugh. They have a subtle glow – as does the rest of your face – when you're learning something new that fascinates you."

Looking into Lily's eyes once more, James noticed they were filling with tears.

"I'm sorry, Lily," he said sincerely, the truth showing in the lines of his face, "I didn't mean to upset you. I won't bother you anymore like I have in the past; I just need you to know that I really and truly love you."

James leaned his face toward Lily's, and her eyes widened as she prepared for his kiss. He was millimeters from her lips when he turned and placed a soft kiss upon her cheek. He jumped away quickly, a grin mixed with adoration and mischief gracing his face.

"And if you don't believe me," he said, walking away backwards, "just ask Sirius and the guys. I never shut up about you."

As soon as he left, Lily trod over to the base of her favorite silver birch tree by the edge of the Black Lake. She thought about all of the ways she had spurned this boy – this man – who really did seem to, for some unfathomable reason, care for her; perhaps he could even love her. She recalled the beautiful, kind, surprising words he had whispered to her as his strong, warm arms held her to him.

_So he isn't perfect_, she thought, _if I'm being honest with myself, no one is. Maybe all that matters is that he really knows me…somehow. And perhaps…he truly cares about me – or even loves me. Oh, God… What if I've lost my only chance at love? _

Finally, she remembered the gentle innocence of his kiss as she buried her face in her hands and began to cry.


End file.
